The Spirit of JesusDay
by KickingRoses
Summary: Vince is afraid that Howard's lost his Christmas spirit. Then he finds a strange creature in Naboo's cellar. Yep, that's my summary and I'm sticking to it.
1. Last Christmas

**Yes, I know I started another fic and I have got half-way through the next chapter of that one, but this was just an idea that came to me last night. Cute, Christmasy adventure fic. That's all I'll say so far.**

**Disclaimer: Nope, still not mine. Surprised?  
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_**Christmas Eve, 1989**_

_The stars grapple to twinkle their way through the smoggy navy clouds covering the night sky. Silhouetted against a tipsy moon is the fleeting image of the strangest group of humanoid men you would ever meet flying across the sky on a large magic carpet, each one as shit-faced as the shaman beside them, their voices murdering every seasonal carol known to the Earth._

_Half a mile below, on the rejoicing planet's surface, an arguably more serene rendition of classic holiday songs are sang by a group from the Salvation Army as men, women and children wrapped snugly in scarves and padded coats and gloves stand and listen or pop in the occasional fifty pence piece. Little children cuddle up to their parents knees as they gaze up in wonder at the pretty lights adorning the city of London._

_It's not just children who are feeling the magic of this beautiful night. Sat on a bench, cradling two cups of Starbucks coffees in their hands as they listen to the carols and gaze up at the lights, are two young men. Or, to put it better, two incredibly big kids._

_The youngest of the duo is sixteen year old Vince Noir; having only recently dropped out of school to become an apprentice zookeeper. But tonight he is without his customised green Zooniverse jacket and wrapped in a festive red hand-me-down coat and multi-coloured knitted scarf and gloves. A bobbled snow hat crowns his long, ruffled dirty-blonde hair. It's a rare sight to ever see this boy without a smile on his pointy face. Only tonight there's an exception; his smile is even more raised and his eyes wide with an innocent, reverent sparkle in each. His crystal clear joy could make the little children in the crowd appear bored in comparison. Except it isn't the lights or the music that's keeping him even more blissfully happy than normal. _

_Every now and then, not too obvious or else it would look suspicious, he shifts his gaze back to that very reason. Beside him on the bench is twenty-one year old Howard Moon; his superior, his trainer, his guardian, his best friend and - though this bit of info is kept between him and his single brain cell - the man he's head over heels in love with. He's known it since the very first time his own eyes met those warm, small yet intense chocolate brown peepers. The thought never even phases him that it could merely be a crush; a simple teen infatuation. No. He's only been working with Howard for a month now and been friends with him only a year at that - but he knows with all his heart that he'd do anything for the man sitting next to him that night. Even if he never returned Vince's feelings; the skinny, awkward-looking, effeminate boy would willingly give his life for Howard TJ Moon. _

_He keeps staring at him for a second longer than he told himself was best and that was all Howard needed to notice him at last. He turned his head to look down at his little apprentice, catching that 'look' he saw a lot from his strange friend. Howard liked that look. He liked Vince. Well, Vince was the only person in the world that smiled at him, let alone looked at him like 'that'. Like he was royalty. No, better yet, divinity._

_And Howard figures if someone as simple as sweet, little, nice but dim Vince could notice the potential and importance in him then surely he must deserve it. He wishes the rest of the world could look at him like that. But, for now, on this special night, he's content with just having his eyes on him, nurturing his ego. Then, when he realizes he's been caught, Vince looks away and back at the lights, the red tint in his cheeks more visible from the winter chill on his pale face. _

_Howard smiles, affectionately, and squeezes his friend's shoulder; "Y'avin' fun, little man?"_

"_Mmmm," Vince nods whilst taking a sip of his latte. He feels Howard's thumb rub into the top of his arm and he buckles on his seat slightly, covering it up with a shiver. "J-just a bit cold…"_

"_Dunno why, you're wrapped up like a sausage roll. That old man tried to put Daddies brown sauce on you earlier."_

_Vince giggles; "'E wouldn't 'ave liked me if he'd tried me though. M'all bony - 'e may as well gone for a **t**wiglet."_

"_Ah, some old Moon family recipe Mince Pies will sort that out for ya and put some meat on you."_

"_You mean those ones from Tesco's I saw in the cupboard this afternoon?"_

"…_It's a popular recipe." Howard retorted lamely, hiding his facial expressions betrayal behind his Starbucks cup. _

_Vince grinned, allowing himself another moment to appreciate how cute Howard got whenever he was embarrassed or outsmarted. The way the sides of mouth would crook up towards his fuzz of a newborn moustache above his upper lip. His mouth waters as he begins to envy the lid of that coffee cup. Too often Howard would tell him off for not paying attention when being taught about his roles as a zookeeper and daydreaming instead. And he was right, Vince was daydreaming. Daydreaming about how that those lips and moustache would feel against his own mouth. About how it would feel to have to those large, manly hands holding him firmly, controlling him, owning him. No wonder he got mistaken for a simpleton when he spent most of his time drooling like one._

_And that's the most obvious he knows he can ever allow his affections to be. As well as stealing as many chances as possible for a brush of fingers, sitting close as they were just then, or even a hug if Vince got lucky. He knows that asking for more would be like asking for the moon, which he'd tried once before and the outcome had been dully predictable;_

"_**I'm the Moon. And I 'and't been made to exist at this time so I'm not at liberty to say anythin'. Ask me again after series one, you stupid lady. I'm the Moooon….eventually."**_

_But it's not important. Vince doesn't need an extra cell in his brain to know he's a lucky kid by nature. Even if his road does have a few bumps along the way, he skips over them with a sunshine smile on his face, and can walk confidently over the rest of the smooth path, just so long as he's got Howard walking beside him. Then everything's okay. _

_He feels the older man shuffle closer beside him. Vince's heart beings to beat erratically but thankfully the whimsical sound of 'Away In A Manger' drowns it out. He wishes Howard would stop looking at him, through him, and he doesn't understand why when surely that's something he wants…_

"_You wanna go back to the hut soon?" Howard asks gently, as he always is, even when he's attempting to be bossy and aloof. As if he thinks Vince is something precious and fragile. _

_The hut is where they're staying for Christmas, neither having a better option, not with Howard having severed all ties to his estranged family and Vince never having had a family for the past six years - and Bryan Ferry being a Buddhist. So all the two had was each other in a small, slightly dilapidated zookeepers hut - more than enough._

_Vince nodded slowly; "…In a little bit. Just wanna finish my coffee."_

_A coffee that was already lukewarm. He was prepared to drag out the moment until it was caffine ice in a cup._

_He looks up at the towering Christmas tree in the garden square, to the glowing gold star atop it; "…S'beautiful, ain't it."_

"_Mmm…" He hears Howard murmur in agreement. "Perfect."_

_Vince lets himself move closer to Howard so that their thighs are touching. He allows his head to rest against a broad shoulder and relaxes when the older man doesn't shrug him off. Instead, Howard wraps an arm around his slight frame and holds him protectively closer. He sighs with a feel of pure ecstasy, feeling so safe and loved, he can't think of anything better to ask for. And for a brief moment, Vince lets himself believe he can feel a pair of lips brush against his hair through the fabric of his hat. But he knows that that might be stretching his luck a tad too far for one night._

-x-x-

_Present Day._

"Vince!…Vince?!….VINCE!"

Howard grabbed a plush orange pillow from the sofa and threw it across to hit his sparkly room-mate lightly on the head. Only then did Vince finally turn to meet him, having apparently not heard him over the festive but loud music on the CD-player, turning his attention away from whatever he was doing beside the Christmas tree with a worn looking cardboard box beside him. He frowned, seeing Howard's fuming expression and leaned across to turn down the volume slightly on the system.

"What!?" he snapped back, reacting the tension Howard had already brought with him into the room.

"Turn that music down! We're gonna get complaints from the neighbours!"

Vince's eyes flashed smugly; "I just did turn it down."

"Yeah, only after I was able to get your attention from…What are you doing? You're not still putting decorations up, are you?" It was Christmas Eve after all.

Yet, that seemed to be what Vince was doing as he finished hanging a blue and gold bauble on one branch of the Christmas tree that already resembled a tall green Buckaroo of trinkets and hangings.

"Naboo 'ad to clear out some stuff from the cellar and I found those ol' decks we used to 'ave at the zoo." Vince's face softened again as he admired the nostalgic treasures. He looked up at Howard; "C'mon, check 'em out, they're genius."

The older man frowned, shrugging the strap of a duffel bag onto his shoulder; "I thought you were going out on the town with your Camden cult tonight."

Vince then did something that shocked Howard a bit and shrugged, non-plussed; "'Was gonna. Then I started lookin' at these and changed my mind." he picked out a glass-painted reindeer figurine and held it preciously in his hands; "Wow. Never thought I'd see this again…"

Howard recognised the figurine and also couldn't help but feel a twinge of wistfulness. He hadn't seen that particular decoration since they'd left the zoo. The paint on the reindeer was scratched in parts and the glass slightly chipped but it was still in good condition. Howard wasn't sure exactly where it came from, only that Vince had bought it with him when he'd arrived at the zoo with nothing but a small battered suitcase of random belongings, including that reindeer.

Vince bounced up from his cross-legged sit in beneath the tree and placed the reindeer on the coffee table beside the sofa, facing forwards as if watching the telly. Howard felt a stir of fondness at the return of that innocent twinkle to Vince's smile that occurred so rarely these days but shook it off.

"So that's what you plan to do for tonight, is it? Make the flat look even more like the North Pole's Spearmint Rhino - if that's even possible?" Howard retorted.

"Nah, that's enough. Anymore and I think the tree's gonna be asking for a chiropractor in a sec." said Vince, closing the box beside him back up. He then looked up to Howard, puppy dog eyes in place; "Couldn't put this up to the attic for us, could ya Howard?"

Howard glowered back at him. He'd been fooling himself to believe that the return of the old Vince-from-the-zoo was truly possible. The little shit box just wanted him to do a job that he'd clearly been asked to do. And after the way he'd been treated this year, Howard thought he deserved the right to scoff at such a favour.

"Think again, sparkly Nick," Howard replied haughtily, looking at Vince's ridiculous (though just a bit adorable) red Father Christmas hat with silver lightning bolts knitted into the fabric; "You're not getting me to do your work for you again, not tonight."

"But I've only got weak, little arms." pouted Vince, "You're the strong manly man."

Howard was just about done. As he always was whenever Vince used tricks like that on him.

No! No more. That was his new years resolution. No more letting Vince walk over him like a doormat. No more being made to look like Vince Noir's bitch. No more, sir!

"Thanks Howard, you're a diamond."

Howard blinked and found himself walking up a step-ladder with a box of antique decorations in his arms. _Wait! What the…?! _He groaned and pushed the box up through the hatch and then got down.

Every. Single. Time.

Fuming at having let himself give in once again to Vince's charms, he grabbed his duffel bag again and slung it over his shoulder.

"Where you goin'?" Vince asked. Howard's heart fluttered again; Vince always did sound cute when he was confused.

"Jazzercise meet-up." He practically grunted back.

"On Christmas Eve? Who goes to work out on Christmas Eve?"

"It's not to work out, Vince. Not completely anyway. It's just a gathering of members for a quiet, calm, social event." Howard explained impatiently.

"But it's Christmas Eve!" Vince made clear for the umpteenth time; "Do all jazzy freaks have no family or friends so they all get together at this time or something?"

Howard felt something inside him crack and he rounded on Vince angrily; "Yes, Vince, something like that, you're right! The same reason you and your little Camden idiots get together instead of being with family or anyone else."

"But I'm not goin' out with them this year, I told you." Vince said back, seriously; "I cancelled goin' out with them 'cause…I thought you'd be in."

"Ah! So I was the safe bet was I, just because you didn't feel like going out and you knew boring old Howard would be in, yes?"

"That's not what I meant!" Vince replied, hurt flashing in those baby blues.

Howard pretended not to notice. Even though he knew, deep down, that was unfair.

"Well, too bad Vince, tonight you're just gonna have to be the one who stays in while Howard Moon shares himself with people that truly appreciate him."

"Right and what is it that most of them think your name is? Hamish Dune?"

Howard narrowed his eyes; "That's just an in-joke, of course they all know my real name. On most days."

"Look, why are you being such a Scrooge this year? You really wanna spend Christmas Eve with a bunch of boring old folks instead of with me?"

"Not everything is about you Vince, if you can begin to fathom such a possibility," replied Howard, "These people share the same opinion as me about this pathetic excuse for a holiday. It's nothing more than a way to get people to open their wallets."

"You used to love Christmas though."

"Exactly. 'Used to'. When I was young, simple and naïve. People change, Vince, they grow up - something you should really try once and a while."

Vince merely smirked back. Howard used the old 'grow up' insult a lot and it was now becoming beyond a joke. But Vince's motto was that he'd rather be a happy big kid than a miserable old fart.

"Fine then, go spend the night with the rest of your weird 'kind' if that's what you want. Why don't you just spend tomorrow with them if they mean that much to you?" He turned on his heel to walk towards the kitchen.

Howard took a deep breath.

"I am."

Vince froze. He then very, very slowly, turned around to face Howard.

His face was blank, unreadable; "…What?"

"I…I'm staying with Lester Corncrake tomorrow, Vince."

The air in the room was suddenly so thick that it could be sliced with a steak knife. Neither of the boys could remember there ever having been such a silence between them. A wanting, uncomfortable, fragile silence at that. Vince felt numb inside. He was almost afraid his limbs had lost all feeling. His throat was dry and his hands suddenly clammy. Remembering himself, he shook out of his trance, his face hardening again.

"You serious?" He forced a laugh as fake as his hair colour; "You really wanna spend Christmas with that old geezer?"

"He's my friend, Vince." Howard replied, secretly knowing what a stretch that statement was.

"What about me?" Vince shot back, unable to hide the slight squeak in his voice; "…And Naboo and Bollo? Are we not good enough for you now?!"

"If you lot are supposed to be my friends then why would I need enemies? I am not spending another meaningless holiday around people who only keep me around to make a joke of me!"

"But…" Vince's eyes wavered; "W-we always spend Christmas together…"

"I told you, I **hate **Christmas! So just let it go, Vince and stop annoying me for once!"

With an abrupt turn on his heel, Howard slung the slipping bag back up over his shoulder again. Except, this time, he accidentally hit the glass reindeer on the side table and failed to notice it totter blindly to the edge and then off the sides before Vince could leap to save it. He squealed, rushing across the room and trying to reach it in time but was far too late.

_SMASH._

Howard turned back at the sound of broken glass and looked down to see the glass reindeer lying in three pieces on the hardwood floor. Vince had fallen to his knees before the debris and was staring forlornly down at it in shock. Howard swallowed a bubble of guilt.

"I…V-Vince, I'm sorry." he stammered, watching the crushed look dawn on the younger man's face.

Vince ignored him and leaned forward to gather up the tiny pieces in his hands. His bottom lip wobbled as a whimpered breath escaped him.

_Oh god,_ thought Howard, _Please don't cry. _

If there was anything that made Howard more uncomfortable, it was the sight of someone - anyone - but especially Vince, crying. When he cried he needed comfort. Touching. It just wasn't something Howard was good at. Not lately, anyway. When he was younger it had been a bit easier. When the boundaries weren't so clearly defined and the fences had been softer. Howard's hands just clung nervously to the strap of his duffel bag.

"Uhm…I think Naboo's got some of that magic glue in his cupboard downstairs." he croaked, pathetically; "You want me to help you or-"

"Just shit off." Vince swore fiercely under his breath.

"Now no need for language like that. It's just a glass reindeer. Did you see me getting all upset when you smashed my jazz record earlier this year?"

"Yes."

Howard bit his lip. He didn't know what else to say or do. Vince was just staring down at the pieces in his hands as if expecting them to mend themselves. Howard's stomach twisted and he did the only thing he was sure he was any good at in that kind of situation. He ran away.

Or, more accurately, walked very briskly down the steps and out of the shop. The winter wind battered his face as soon as he left the house and he could hear its chanting clearly;

_Coward. Coward. Coward. Coward._

"I thought I told you to shut up, wind!" he spat into the frosty air.

-x-x-x-x-

Vince carried the fragments of painted glass carefully down the stairs and into the shop. He laid them carefully on the green-lit counter and searched the shelves behind for some of that magic glue Howard had been on about. But the best he was able to find was some pritt stick. He smiled sadly to himself, his mind flashing back to rolling around in the bushes behind his school, munching the stuff before being found by an older boy in a brown jumper, looking at him like he was insane.

Then he frowned. Had that even happened? His past seemed to be a patchwork quilt of confused moments without any continuity of each other sewn together. Sometimes he confused dreams with actual memories. It created a safety blanket to delude himself into believing that Howard had always been a constant in his life. Whether that was true or not, it was becoming less relevant now a days as the real Howard seemed to be slipping through his fingers.

Every year he seemed to get worse. The once proud, adventurous, confident Man of Action had slowly eroded with each passing Christmas until he changed into the bitter, pathetic, self-deprecating cynic that he was today. The twinkle of hope in those brown eyes had all but dimmed.

Vince knew that was partly his fault. Or at least that's what Howard would have everyone believe. It was all down to Vince always flaunting his never-ending luck in his face. Vince always getting the attention and praise that Howard so desperately craved. Vince always being able to have the last laugh. And Vince did feel guilty, even though he knew that none of these faults of his had been deliberately to hurt Howard. He couldn't help that he was lucky. Or popular. Or happy. And a lot of the time this got to Vince and he'd throw back whatever callous blow Howard dealt out to him. Often, recently, without much of a push from the older man. He convinced himself whenever he'd feel a twinge of remorse for Howard that it was only revenge for ten years of being treated like an annoying lapdog; given orders without gratitude and then left out in the cold when he wasn't wanted. But, in all honestly, all Vince wanted was for Howard to notice him. _Really _notice him the same way Vince had noticed him since the day they'd met, even when Howard had just been a dull looking boy that no one would've picked out of a crowd - except for Vince.

Only now he'd found out that his scheme had worked the opposite of what Vince wanted. He'd ended up pushing Howard even further away and now the older man didn't even want to spend Christmas with him. He couldn't even bear to stay in the same room as him anymore. How long would it be before the day came when Vince would awaken to find Howard's side of the room empty and his bags packed?

His hands that had been trying carefully to glue together the pieces of the broken reindeer began to shake with fear at the thoughts going through his mind. He could still remember being given the figurine even though he can't have been older than five or six. He remembered the warm, feminine hands passing it gently to him and the sugar sweet smile of that person who was now long since dead. This was all he had left of her and now it was a symbol for his and Howard's shattered friendship. When the pritt stick failed to hold the pieces together, Vince huffed and gave up, something even he knew was out of character.

There must have been something he could do to fix him and Howard. He knew what his friend really needed was his Christmas spirit back, something he'd known for a while now had been laying dormant inside the maverick, especially from another recent argument;

"_I just don't see the point in it, Vince. It's not like either of us are even religious."_

"_It's the 21st__ Century. Or the 20th...I'm not sure what year we're in, it's pretty vague. But hardly anyone still believes in Christmas being about Jesus saving the world from aliens anymore. That's not what Christmas is about - it's about being thankful for what you've got around you."_

"_That's Thanksgiving."_

"_Well, we're not American, so Christmas is our Thanksgiving."_

"_It doesn't matter, the point still stands. After all, what have I got to be thankful for? I'm a lowly shopkeeper and failed musician who lives with a stoned wizard, a gorilla that hates me and an imbecile in love with his own reflection - so WHAT do I have to be thankful for?!"_

"…"

"_What?"_

"_Nothin'. You're right…"_

Him. He couldn't be thankful for him. That had kicked Vince had in the gut with the truth of how important he was to Howard. He was nothing more than a vain imbecile. It didn't matter that Vince was the only one who was willing to spend the majority of his life with Howard. It didn't matter that Vince would always help him out whenever he asked for it and even when he didn't. It didn't matter that Vince would - and had in the past - risked life and limb to save the clumsy Northern git.

None of it mattered. He didn't matter.

Maybe he should've spent Christmas Eve with Leroy and the others. At least they'd have wanted to be with him. Even if it was just to admire his hair or his clothes. At least he wouldn't have been left on his own. Again. He was just about to pick up the phone on the counter when he heard a voice call behind him.

"Help me….Help me, please…"

Vince's head whipped around. The voice was so faint and weak that it sounded like the wind was crying; "Someone there?"

"Please…help me…Anyone….the cellar…"

Leaving the shattered pieces on the counter, he moved around the back, trying to work out where the voice was coming from. But there was no one to be seen apart from his reflection in one of the many crystal balls on the shelves.

"Are you hurt….whoever you are?" he called back, confused. "I can't see you."

"Come to the cellar…The cellar…"

"Where are you?" Vince asked, peering around for signs of life.

"Look in the fucking cellar! Jeez."

Vince turned and found himself standing in front of the large, ominous-looking wooden door that led to Naboo's cellar beneath the shop, filled with all his most shady of merchandise. Normally both Howard and Vince were allowed access into the dark chamber. But last week Naboo had specifically told them to stay out of it as he'd captured some 'bad ju ju' and after their last experiences with meddling with Naboo's spells, the two had made no objections to obeying him.

But the voice sounded so sad. Therefore Vince concluded that that made it okay to disregard everything Naboo said once again and open the door…

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**Next chapter is a lot shorter so shouldn't be too long. Reviews would be lovely.**


	2. The Samaritan Mod

**Ugh. So sorry this took longer than it should have. Stupid seasonal distractions. Welcome the plot development...**

**Disclaimer: Still no mine.  
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Following the sound of the voice, Vince opened the cellar door with the emergency key that he always knew Bollo hid in one of the pencil tins in the side. He pushed the door open carefully and stepped down the small stone stairway that led beneath the surface. The underground was pitch black and Vince regretted not grabbing his mobile from upstairs to use as a torch. Or grabbing a torch for that matter. He padded his hand along the wall until he felt the light switch and flicked it only to have the bulb flash and burst, causing him to leap and cry out in shock.

Maybe this was a bad idea, he began to ponder to himself. And yet his feet refused to turn and go back up the stairway. Instead he ventured deeper, letting his annoying curiosity take a hold of him as it usually did and 'cause him to abandon any shred of rational thought. His eyes made out the shape of an old oil lantern on a nearby shelf as well as some matches beside it. He struck one and lit up the lantern, carrying it with him as he descended deeper into the cellar. Only when he picked it up did he notice a note glued underneath it.

Vince carefully picked it off from the underside and recognised Naboo's handwriting.

_Dear Vince and/or Howard,_

_If you're reading this then you've ignored my orders to stay out of the cellar over the Christmas period. You utter ballbag(s). _

_Fine, go on if you must but know that I won't save you from the horror you bring upon yourself. _

_Nice knowing you._

_Goodbye forever and happy Christmas,_

_Naboolio The Enigma._

_P.S If you do happen to survive, try and find my collection of Xena DVDs somewhere down there. I don't want them but Bollo's asked for that for Christmas so I figure I can just wrap up my old collection. Anyway, goodbye forever._

_P.P.S On second thought, forget the DVDs, I'm just gonna end up getting him another scarf._

'The horror you bring upon yourself'? Vince couldn't help but scoff. He could swear Naboo was getting more overly-dramatic in his old age. After all it had only been last week when he'd sensed a 'mysterious unknown demon' sneaking around the flat only to discover it was one of Howard's horrible brown socks that a rat was using as a coat. Even so, they'd still had the sock liquidized for good measure, despite Howard's - and Reggie the rat's - feeble protests.

He put the note back on the shelf and proceeded in going further down the steps with the lantern in hand. As he finally reached the bottom, he glanced around as the weak light began to illuminate the shapes around him out of the darkness. The cellar was a complete clutter of stacked cauldrons, mountains of dusty old books and cobweb infested shelves crammed with jars containing florescent potions and imprisoned insects supposedly waiting to be turned into potions. In the distance he could make out the squeak of rats and mice that infested the place, most of which he knew personally when they'd appear in the kitchen requesting cheese for their babies.

As Vince passed a glass jar that happened to contain a grasshopper throwing a tiny tennis ball against the surface repetitively, his initial curiosity became forgotten as a new idea struck his mind, pushing all previous thought out due to lack of space. Perhaps there was something down here that could help return Howard's Christmas spirit? Maybe, Vince thought, he could summon an angel to take Howard on a spiritual quest so he realizes just how important he really was to everyone…On second thought, Vince shook his head, that would probably depress him even more. Plus, he was almost certain he'd read something similar and much better written last year.

_Still,_ he huffed to himself, peering around the dank, dripping cellar, _There's gotta be something that could put a smile on the morbid ol' sod's face again._ He knew that using magic for personal gain was against Naboo's 'shamanic law', except for his own laziness, but surely it didn't mean nothing truly terrible would appear because of it. Just like the time Vine had used to the Book of Black Magic to impress those goth girls…and the world had nearly been destroyed by evil nanas. _Ok, bad example. But Howard did once say that lightning never strikes twice in the same place…_

A crash of thunder and a flash of lightning then decided to strike just outside the shop in front of the tiny window at the top corner ceiling of the cellar.

Vince rolled his eyes; "Ha ha, very funny, but it's not like-"

A second crash of thunder and lightning then occurred in the exact same spot. This time causing Vince to jump and drop the lantern.

"…Oh, as if!" he swore, only thankful that the lantern hadn't shattered.

Instead it rolled across the cement floor, creating a brief road of dim light as it travelled, before coming to a halt when it reached a…shivering, pale blue, claw-like foot.

Vince gulped, two words echoing around his brain-space. _Oh. Shit._

He stood transfixed as the light from the lantern shone out and the silhouette of probably the scariest and yet oddly beautiful creature that Vince had ever seen was brought into view. It was humanoid in shape, all apart from the large, worn, bat-like wings crumbled against the wall behind it. Almost its entire skin was glittering white like pure snow. Its fingers and toes were long and sharp yet didn't seem so threatening in their limp, weakened state, especially with its knees now drawn up to its chest and its windy arms wrapped around itself pathetically. The small squeaking from the supposed mice were actually being whimpered from this thing's frosted lips. Its face, bar the whiteness of his skin and the sapphire blue of its hair and goatee, was for all accounts a human man's face. A face that looked oddly familiar to Vince. Its tiny eyes were shut tight and it was muttering strange words to itself. Down its cheeks seemed to be icy blemishes where it looked like tears had run the snow off of its skin.

Vince had no idea whether to run and scream like a little girl or give the thing a hug and make it some toasty warm mulled wine. But of course - for all his vanity - that would always be the quality that separated him from Howard, and the overly-sympathetic mod took a step towards the frightened beast sitting curled up in the corner of the cellar.

He knelt down and picked up the lantern to set it upright. The creature let out a tiny cry of fear as Vince's hands came too close to him.

"S'alright. I'm not gonna hurt you."

The creature slowly opened both its gold-flecked brown eyes at Vince.

"Awright," Vince gave his usual sunny smile; "What's your name?"

Its eyes scanned Vince up and down for a moment. It didn't reply.

"…Ain't you got a name?" Vince frowned.

Still no reply.

"I know! I'll give you a name. How about….Mr. Frosty?" Vince suggested brightly.

The creature frowned slightly though remained silent.

"Okay, not that. Ice-Man?"

If possible, the thing's frozen brow furrowed even more.

"Alright then, how about…Artic Boy?…Snowy Jim?…Tundra Kid?…East Pole?….Billy Clause?…Freezer Geezer?….Paul?…Dugong?…Krystal Hands?….Yellow Eye?"

**30 Minutes Later...**

"IceDevimon?…Sir Stalactite?…Sir Stala_gmite_?…" Vince flicked over to another page of his notebook as he lay stretched on his front before the ever-unresponsive creature; "…Mel Gibson?…Little Johnny Frostbite?…Prince of the Na'vi?…Captain Coolcicle?…Dave Brow-"

"Stop! Stop! My name is J.D, alright! Just call me J.D!" the creature apparently known as J.D finally snapped, revealing his voice to be a surprisingly hot-tempered Yorkshire lilt.

"Oh…okay," Vince conceded blankly. He looked back down at his notepad; "…How about-?"

"J.D is fine, now please stop guessing!"

"Sorry. Hey, you just spoke!" Vince beamed, this information only just reaching his singular brain cell that was exhausted from coming up with numerous names; "'Was beginning to think you couldn't speak any English."

"I couldn't, I've just absorbed every word you've said in those names to come up with your people's dictionary." J.D explained lazily. "So now the shaman has resorted to sending you in here to torture me, has he?"

"What? No, I'm not here to torture you."

"Then what was with all those horrible name guesses?" the creature scrutinized.

Vince shrugged innocently; "Just wanted to know what your name was. It's Christmas, everyone should at least have a name."

"I think you'll find that the shaman took away every basic right my people once had." J.D looked sullenly down to the ground.

"Your people? There's more than one of you?"

J.D nodded. Then shook his head; "No. There was once, long ago. My kind were wiped out. I am the last of my people."

"What are you?" Vince looked the creature over, wishing he had some better light other than the old lantern. The creature did remind him a little bit of the monster from the _first _time him and Howard had gone to the Arctic. Except a tad more elegant in design and less monstrous. "You're not related to Black Frost are you?"

"No." J.D denied instantly; "Well, only by blood."

"Oh, that's alright then."

"We are both spirits of the season." J.D began to explain with a hint of ambiguity in his voice; "We're born of the elements; the wind, snow and ice."

"Isn't snow and ice the same element?"

"Do _you _wanna tell the story of my origins?" J.D shot back.

Vince put his palms up in surrender.

"Right then. See, I was once an angel of Christmas." J.D stared off whimsically into the distance as if spotting some heavenly object across the room. Vince followed his gaze only to find an old Dyson Hoover stacked in the corner; "My soul purpose in life was to travel the globe and mingle with the hearts of men, women, children and animals all around to help spread the true spirit of Christmas to all. To find those that were lost and alone and give them the warmth and homely comfort that Christmas is supposed to bring. But then I was captured and imprisoned here by that heartless shaman. He used my gifts for his own business needs and then left me here to rot."

"No way! Naboo's a softie really, 'e would never do something like that." Vince laughed it off. Ok, Naboo did have a dark side, as he'd once experienced after accidentally dropping the small wizard's iPod in his coffee - and Vince had found himself transformed into mp3 format…but he wasn't malicious; "M'sure it's just a misunderstanding."

"Is that so?" J.D raised his arms to reveal the enchanted shackles chaining him to the wall. He assumed they were enchanted merely due to the fact they were shiny.

Vince frowned; "Naboo wouldn't do this to you if you were 'armless."

"I may soon be if that's my only chance of escape."

"…That was terrible. Just terrible," Vince commented with disdain. "But it's not the sort of thing that makes it ok for 'im to just chain you up here in the dark. Especially at Christmas."

J.D stared down at his glacier-like hands; "All I wanted to do was do my contribution to the spirit of the season. I wanted to help people and what do I get in return? Punishment for wrongs that I didn't even do…"

Vince sat back, taking in the creature before him for the first real time since he'd first laid eyes on it. This thing was no different to him, apart from having little to no dress sense and a voice that sounded like it enjoyed pain. It had made an effort to make people happy and its reward had been pain and loneliness. He admitted to himself that it put some of his problems in perspective.

Sighing, he shuffled closer to the icy beast and touched one of his hands. As expected, its skin was cold as a freezer shelf, yet not as unbearable as he'd predicted. Examining the thing's skin, Vince noticed more blemishes and scrapings where it appeared its usual layer of snow skin had been chipped or melted.

J.D brushed the fingers of his other hand softly over Vince's; "…He tortured me for hours. Firstly to try and get information….then I think he was sapping some of my power to use for his own shady wizard bootlegging business….And after all that, he still shuns me and locks me up so I can't meet anyone…"

Vince raised his head to meet the brownish yellow eyes of the ice man. As he drank in a few more features of his face he began to remember who reminded him of. Someone he knew long ago. Someone charming and kind, pompous at times, but had a good heart.

"I'm gonna be 'avin' words with Naboo. I don't care what you are, this is just out of order. Don't worry, as soon as 'e comes back from Bollo's DJ set, I'll sort 'im out - then I'll get 'im to release you, promise." Vince pledged earnestly.

J.D's expression switched slightly. He began to look at Vince as if he'd only just realized he'd invaded his prison cell. He blinked, confused, his eyelashes made of snowflakes.

"…You would do that for me?" he asked, his voice suddenly more strained.

"'Tis the season and all that." Vince grinned.

"That's very….I appreciate it a lot. But you need not waste your efforts on me, pretty human. I'll pass away soon…"

Vince's eyes widened; "What? No. You ain't gonna die, don't be such a Drama Queen. You just need some Lucozade in ya."

J.D smiled lightly, closing his eyes; "I'm not afraid of dying…I've lived for so long…And it's been a fun few centuries. But I cannot abide being kept out from the cold any longer. Being imprisoned indoors, away from the elements, on top of the torture and starvation has made me too weak to survive…" J.D finished with a rough cough, tiny clouds emitting from his mouth.

"Ain't there anythin' I can do?" Vince asked helplessly.

The creature opened his eyes to meet Vince's; "You've done enough already. Trust me. I'm just glad to have someone to keep me company in my final moments…I've always hated being alone…Thank you, Vince Noir."

Vince caught his breath as the creature's coughs became raspier. He couldn't remember ever telling J.D his full name but that mystery wasn't the main problem on his mind at that moment. This poor creature was going to dye - no, was dying right in front of him. His fleeting memories cast him back to the years before, a different lifetime, when he'd sit with all the ill or old animals at the zoo. Despite Howard's warnings about not getting too close to them, nor the fact that none of the other zookeepers batted an eyelid, Vince would always be the one there at their side, making sure they were comfortable, talking to them even after their eyes had shut and their breathing had ceased. Every death-bed scene broke his naïve heart and yet it would always rejuvenate itself in time to witness another poor animal passing away - or to be stepped on by a condescending Howard.

One of the few benefits of leaving the zoo had been Vince having the chance to get away from the heartache of losing his animal friends so quickly and meeting more human friends to coerce with. Friends that had a longer lasting guarantee on them. He'd grown tougher as well and knew not to wear his heart on a silk sleeve as he had back then. But in spite of the front composed of foundation and eyeliner, Vince had never truly lost his compassion, it had just had less of a chance to be put to use. And yet there he was again, sitting in the dark before a poor, lonely creature on Christmas Eve, giving what little he could to help. And he'd been thanked.

_At least someone is grateful to me,_ he thought bitterly to himself. He then shook the thought from his mind. This wasn't about Howard. This was about a magical creature that Naboo had cruelly taken away from…Wait.

"Did you say that you spread the true spirit of Christmas to people?" Vince asked carefully.

J.D nodded, drearily; "Yes. I fill their needs for the holiday seasons and nurture any tortured souls feeling lost and troubled...."

Lost. Troubled. Tortured soul. _Yep, that's Howard to a T right there._

If Vince was able to find away to release J.D from the cellar then it would mean he could save his life and also have him help Howard get his Christmas spirit back! It was fool-proof. His eyes twinkled with hope as he looked upon J.D.

"Just hang on for a sec…" he whispered with a cheeky lift in his smile.

He spent the next few minutes searching around the cellar with the lantern in hand, lifting up jars and peering around cracks for any sign of the key needed to open the chains. Even Vince knew that hoping the key would be in the same place as the prisoner was a ridiculous notion but with Naboo out of the house he didn't have much else choice. The shaman always kept the door to his room locked whenever he went out now, ever since the Nanageddon incident.

Then he noticed a glittery blue key on a hook on the far wall opposite where J.D was in chains. The sign above read 'Shackle Key'. Vince frowned, _I wonder if there's any chance this could be the key…_

Well, apart from a hair-clip, he nothing better on his hands. He grabbed the key and bounced back to kneel in front of J.D with the key cradled in his hands.

"I found it, look! At least I hope this is it…If it is then we can get you out of here and you can get better, won't that be amazing'?…J.D?" Vince asked excitedly.

J.D's head was now bowed and his arms limp in his lap. His eyes were hidden beneath closed lids.

"Oh, c'mon, don't do the silent treatment on me again….J.D? C'mon, m'gonna rescue ya…J.D stop being an arse, wake up…!"

Vince tried to shake him by his frozen shoulders and was surprised to find how warm he felt beneath the touch of his hands. He watched as the snow began to drip from his sleeted skin.

His heart in his throat, Vince quickly grabbed one of the shackles and put the bright blue key into the lock. He let out a cry of triumph when he heard something click and the shackle loosened, releasing the weak creature's wrist. Vince continued until J.D was completely free of the chains. But he still failed to show any signs of life.

Groaning inwardly, refusing to watch another sick creature die in front of him, Vince stood on a nearby stall and reached up to the small window that looked out above ground level. It looked like it hadn't been opened in years and it took some effort for Vince to finally pull it inwards. He hauled it open with so much force that he ended up flying backwards across the room and crashing into a stack of shelves and landing on the floor with the smash of several falling jars toppling either side of him.

"Ow!" he moaned, rubbing his lower back as he landed on the cold concrete.

The sharp winds from the blizzard outside roared through the now open window, snow-flakes creating a whirlwind around the cellar, soaring almost magnetically towards the lifeless creature sat in the corner of the room.

Vince blinked through the irritating stars clouding his vision, rubbing his arms to fend off the intolerable chill and almost wishing he had one of Howard's atrocious yet snug cardigans to wrap around him. He felt the temperature of the cellar drop so low that it suddenly hurt to breathe. Something had gone wrong. Vince knew that you didn't need to be a rocket surgeon or whatever it was to figure that one out.

The wind and snow formed a thin yet vicious tornado around J.D's body. Suddenly the flakes began to build up on his arms and face, rebuilding his white flesh, and he appeared to be doubling in mass. The wind shook his tattered wings and they began to rise up behind him, flapping eagerly. One of J.D's long talon-like fingers twitched. His eyes, once a faint gold and now a raging fiery blue, shot open.

"I…It worked…" Vince beamed proudly to himself. He was unable to perform his famous dance of joy by the rising snow that had now buried his feet, immobilizing him.

J.D rose to his feet and stretched out his limbs. One foot crushed the lantern on the floor, extinguishing all light apart from the mystical white aura glowing around J.D. Vince's vision was becoming less clear as the cold air began to cut him from the outside in. He could just make out J.D striding towards him, his tall frame towering dauntingly over where he sat crumbled on the floor, mighty wings spread out either side of him...

And the sinister smile on his frosted lips; "Now it feels like Christmas!"

Vince wasn't sure whether to agree. This didn't feel much like any holiday. More like a slow and agonizing death… "Oh you've gotta be 'avin me on!" he moaned to himself, the grim truth of the situation dawning upon him at last.

The darkness was drawing in. Before his precious senses gave up the fight; the last saw was J.D leaning down towards him, the last thing he felt was the hard snow crushing against his tender skin, the last thing he smelt was the mince pies burning from Mrs. Kendrick's house, the last thing he heard was a maniacal laugh and the last thought in his head was a single name unable to be cried out.

_Howard…!_

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**Angst and terror? At Christmas time? You know me. ;) Reviews would be lovely. If I don't update before Christmas, which I hopefully should do but can't make any guarantees - Merry Booshmas, my lovelies!**


	3. Howard's Epiphany

**Hope everyone had a great Christmas. Here's some more festive adventure/angsty fic for you. Mostly filler this time - filler being a more obvious word for dull character development :P Hope you enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: Santa failed to bring them to me again so no, I still don't own any of it.  
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Howard tugged his scarf up over his lips and white sprinkled moustache. He wrapped his coat tighter around himself as he battled through the harsh winter winds that had appeared so spontaneously it was as if someone had turned on a snow machine at full force. This immediately confused Howard, seeing as he'd been told there hadn't been even enough budget for anything else after Vince had spent it all on his new Santa hat (apparently made by three blind elves). In his arms was a small package he held protectively to his front as he began to reach the Nabootique at long last.

In the end, he'd decided against spending Christmas Eve with his Jazzercise group. He'd managed to drive all the way to the local meeting place and greet his comrades, all the while having avoided any smidgen of guilt for what had happened in the flat. After all, Vince being upset over a personal object of his being broken might teach him a bit about respect for one's belongings and why Howard got so obsessively compulsive over the state his stuff. Yes, surely it had done the little man some good, was what Howard told himself. And then, as he said his hellos to his fellow jazz lovers, Howard truly believed he'd made the right decision and would be spending Christmas with those who really understood what he was about.

**-x-x-x-x-**

**An hour earlier…**

"'Ey up there, Horace, ol' boy. Happy Christmas."

Walt, the sixty eight year old retired blues artist clapped Howard on the shoulder as soon as he'd stepped into the meeting hall.

"Uhm, Happy Christmas to you too, Walt." Howard replied with a polite smile; "And I'm Howard, remember?"

"Who? Well where's our Horace then? I'm supposed to beat him in our annual chess match at last! I've been reading up on every trick in the book to try and outwit that bastard and this year is finally gonna be my year!"

"Horace shot himself five years ago." Howard explained carefully. "He never even got to be a member here."

Not that careful enough as it happened, for as soon as the words left Howard's mouth, Walt began cursing Horace with every name under the sun for taking away any chance of him beating him and had to be restrained and taken away by his carer. Ok, so that hadn't been the best start to his Christmas Eve meet up but at least he still hadn't thought about Vince yet.

With the raving Walt having been removed from the group, Howard wondered over to a small group of people in the corner of the room, all sipping cups of steaming Earl Grey. One short women in her late fifties, Beryl, noticed Howard coming over and gave him a nod of welcoming;

"Ah, here's our young stallion. Weren't sure if you were gonna be comin', Howard."

"Happy Christmas, Beryl…Carl, Maurine, Doug, Arthur." Howard greeted the others in the small circle who also gave him a nod in return and a muttering of a happy Christmas. He'd never noticed before how young he really was compared to everyone else; "Why would I miss out on being with the old group, ey? This is where the real party's at, isn't it, haha!"

A murmur with all the enthusiasm of a depressed turtle rattled its way around the small circle. One of the other members across the room collapsed over a table of cucumber sandwiches.

"We thought you'd be spending it with that pretty young girlfriend of yours." said Carl, a stretch of curiosity in his haggard voice.

Howard scoffed; "I can barely call Vince more than an 'acquaintance' these days, Carl. Not exactly the warm company I wanna have around me at the holidays. It's bad enough to have to share a room with the little titbox."

"Well there's always a spare room going at my bungalow as you know, Howard." Beryl winked - just as Howard felt something nip his left arse-cheek.

He quickly jumped back and shuffled away from Beryl's lusty gaze beneath her spectacles.

"Uh, like I said, I'm still mulling it over…But thanks." He gulped, edging in between Carl and Doug.

"'E still giving you trouble then, that Vince?" Maureen asked knowingly.

"Vince just IS trouble. He's always getting me into dangerous situations and ruining every attempt I make at improving things for myself. And he's so unbelievably selfish." Howard let out.

"Oh tell me about it." Doug rolled his eyes; "The youth of today are a disgrace. I rang up my boy today to ask if I was ever going to be invited to spend the day at his new house - little sod said he was busy going out with his mates! And that I should have said if I'd wanted to come around. Bloody cheek."

"Exactly, Doug, mate, I've been there, done…" Howard cut himself off as he realized the reply in his mind was utter bollocks. "Well, actually, Vince wanted me to stay in tonight with him…But only 'cause his other 'cooler' mates probably weren't available."

The near-senile elderly people surrounded him all gave Howard an off look as if he was insane. And he knew why. Even they knew that such a reasoning was the biggest load of bollocks imaginable. Vince was the Camden trendsetter after all; why would any of them not want to hang around with him? Or not invite him out somewhere? And, in all honestly, it had been _Howard _who had abandoned an offer to stay in with Vince in order to be with his 'friends'…

Just as the silent atmosphere became a tad too thick, Carl cleared his throat and Howard pulled himself out of his contemplation.

"Well I wouldn't wanna be with my ungrateful lot at this time anyway," Maureen commented rather haughtily; "All we do for them and then all we get in return is backchat and zero-respect."

"Here here." Howard could definitely agree to that one! After all, he'd taken Vince in when he was young, had given him a job and shelter - and what did he get in return besides being mocked? Nothing.

Well, apart from little stupid things like a cup of tea made for him at the end of a long shift, be it at the zoo or the shop, as well as a free hair-cut every month. And someone who didn't object to sharing his company, even out in town where Vince was free to risk his idol status for hanging around with someone so hopelessly unfashionable, as well as someone to banter with, crimp with, and laugh after a satsuma fight. Then he supposed there was also how Vince, despite all his teasing, would at least attempt to get Howard in with a girl whenever he could, even if it meant sacrificing his own chance at a 'three way'. Not to mention the many, many, many, many amount of times he owed his life to Vince as well.

"…We give them all the love and nurturing when they're young and then they go on and abandon us in those homes like we're an inconvenience!" Howard just caught the end of one of Arthur's rants. "Damn rotten kids! I said to that lousy daughter of mine this year that I'd _rather _spend Christmas with my own kind rather than be around her and that 'wife' of hers."

The balding senior citizen finished with by spitting on the already filthy floor.

And that had been all Howard could stomach for one night.

**-x-x-x-x-**

He entered through the side door leading up to the flat as the shop was all closed up. Upon entering, he quickly shut the door on the tempestuous winter weather outside, relieved to finally be home. He brushed the inch thick layer of snow from his shoulders gladly. His relief was cut short with a sudden moan to find that the temperature inside wasn't much of an improvement from how it had been on the streets. Would it really have hurt Vince to have just put the heating on?

Howard closed his eyes and decided to use that old method of taking five seconds to calm himself. He wouldn't kick off the night again by having a go at Vince and leading to another argument. That would just destroy the whole reason for why he'd come home early in the first place.

Keeping his coat and scarf on, Howard trudged up the stairs, the package still held in his arms. He was more than disappointed to find Vince not curled up on the sofa with a box of chocolates watching one of the cheesy Christmas programmes on the box. He bit his lip. Maybe he'd upset him too much and he'd gone to bed instead. It was so freezing that it didn't seem like such a warped suggestion.

"Vince? Vince, you in?" He called out, walking down the hall and stopping to knock on their closed bedroom door.

No answer.

"'Ey, c'mon, you're the one who said you wanted to spend the night together. Well I'm back now. And I've got something special here for you."

Howard thought the temptation of presents would be too much for Vince to ignore with a mere sulk. But there was still no reply from behind the wood.

With an almost fearful inhale, Howard turned the doorknob and went into their bedroom. Both beds at either sides of the room where empty, though Howard's beige sheets were neatly made while Vince's glittery shambles was a bombsite of tossed and tangled sequined blankets. He wasn't home then.

Howard dragged his feet over to Vince's empty bed and sat down on the edge. He placed the small package atop Vince's largest velvet pillow. Even though knowing that the effort would be lost on someone with Vince's tastes, Howard was quite pleased with the wrapping of it, considering he'd done it himself with the gift wrapping extra from the shop he'd bought it from. The paper was a simple light brown almost the same as a plain paper bag. But the string was a small rope-like material tying up in a bow with a miniature white lily slid beneath it. Howard smiled to himself; the choice of wrapping paper may mean nothing to Vince but he knew for certain that he'd understand the point of the flower.

If only he was there to open the thing. It had always been a tradition that Vince got to open at least one present on Christmas Eve seeing as he was the only one who cared enough to be impatient for the morning. For all Howard's thinking, the plan had been fool proof, though he realized then that he should've also reckoned on the possibility of Vince going out with his Camden lot after all, instead of just moping around the flat alone because of Howard.

_Is it lonely up there on your pedestal?_ His mind began to mock him.

Howard pressed his head into his hands. He hadn't been at the Jazzercise group meet-up for more than half an hour before practically dashing out. Not so much to escape the people as to escape what he could see himself becoming. He didn't want to end up like them. He didn't want to be someone who moaned and groaned about how unfairly he was treated and not seeing for the way he treated others or how much he was truly cared for. Maybe it was too late already.

That had struck Howard with enough terror to realize that things had to change. For once he was going to be a Man of Action and _act _for once in his life. It was clear as crystal how much Vince cared for him in spite of the joking and the odd prank. And Howard knew that if he merely continued to focus on the bad and ignore the good then he'd truly turn into Doug or Arthur before his time.

But was it as obvious how much he cared for Vince? Howard had walked away from the town hall thinking on that subject. Yes, he had done things for Vince as well, he could reassure himself of that. However, even in his egotistical mind, he had to admit that they seemed even few and far between.

Once upon a time he'd been so much more affectionate and protective towards his younger friend. Back then, Vince had been a lot more naïve and sensitive, seeming so vulnerable to the big bad world around him, despite his sunny confidence and endless cheer. Howard assumed it was something of a 'big brother' instinct as he felt this odd compulsion to look after Vince, the same way his late older brother had protected him whenever their mum was having one of her bad turns; _"Remember, little man, just come to my side whenever she's like this, and you'll be okay..."_ After Freddie's death at the age of nineteen, Howard had been forced to fend for himself and he knew first hand what a struggle it was. So when he stumbled across Vince - sweet, beautiful little Vince who in any right world would've had all the love and security he deserved around him already, yet instead was all alone in the big city just like Howard - well, he'd been helpless to resist. He'd taken him under his wing and taught him everything Vince knows of the world. Or, everything Howard knows…One of the two, it didn't matter. He'd been a friend to chat and laugh at the screwed-up world with. He'd done his best to keep him safe from Fossil's seedy, drooling leer. He'd sat up with him at night if he was ever upset about wherever his parents had disappeared to and held him till he fell asleep…

Surely after all those years, long ago as they were, Vince would have no doubt about how much he meant to Howard. The older man had nursed him through those first tender years in the adult world. So even if things had changed, even if Howard had started to get irritated at how Vince never seemed to grow up and even at the age of twenty-eight would want to cling to him like a needy sixteen year old and force Howard to push him away for what he thought was his own good, surely he'd remember. Vince always focused on the good, after all…

_He must have incredible eyes to have spotted it after the years you've given him._

And there was the voice again. Howard hated it because it always loved being right.

It wasn't that his feelings had changed towards Vince. Actually, on second thought, that was the exact reason for everything - Howard decided to make that clear before the smug voice jumped in again. He still cared for him deeply. He'd proven recently he'd risk his life for him even if he had taken some persuading after the initial cowardly flop. It was just that with Vince becoming braver and more capable, Howard didn't feel so needed anymore, even if the Mod would still try to cling to him on occasions. Howard had wanted to do more with his own life instead of just looking after Vince. He told himself he needed to break away and do anything he needed to do to succeed in finding his fortune. He would sometimes even carelessly put Vince in danger in order to win his glory, telling himself that the resilient younger man could handle it as he could anything - a risk that had so nearly cost him the one precious thing in his life on more than one occasion. Not to mention all the times he'd run away from Vince, leaving him for 'better and brighter' horizons…only to fail miserably and come crawling back home.

He always came home. No matter what he'd done, or rather hadn't done, and no matter how far he'd gone, he would always return for Vince. And the younger man would welcome him with a smile and say nothing of what had happened. So Howard felt no need to be guilty - what was the point when he wouldn't get blamed?

There was no denying it. He'd _used_ Vince. Taken advantage of his loyalty and easy-going nature until there was a little left to go around anymore. All to satisfy his own ego. Never thinking once that he might need to show Vince he **did **still care about him - until tonight.

Howard ran his fingers through his hair. He'd been a fool. A clueless fool to assume that just because Vince 'acted' like everything was ok meant it was. That all he had to do was come back to him and everything would be forgiven. He'd never once even said sorry; he'd tell himself that as long as Vince was smiling then there must not have been anything to say sorry for. Vince was the one who screwed up like a stupid kid. Vince was the one who apologized like a good boy. Howard was the elder, the mature superior, how could he ever be the one in the wrong?

_Well that wasn't at all condescending._ Howard was resigned to agree with the sarcasm.

No wonder Vince was so eager to keep his newer friends who worshipped the ground he walked on. No wonder Howard was now, once again, the one left alone on Christmas Eve. He couldn't think of a more fitting punishment. How ironic for it to come on the same night as his great epiphany. Tonight, he had been going to make the effort for once, to put things right again between them before it was too late.

A door swiftly and opened and slammed shut beneath him, causing Howard to bolt upright, hopefully.

_Vince!_

With an almost uncharacteristic enthusiasm, Howard dashed out of the bedroom and down into the shop, nearly stumbling off the bottom step in shock at the sight before him.

The shop was a complete Winter wasteland. He hadn't noticed it from behind the closed shutters nor from the side hall as he'd entered. The floor was covered with at least two inches of snow whilst most of the stock seemed to have been knocked off the shelves or smashed by some ungodly force. Howard walked tentatively upon the snow, wrapping his coat around himself once more as the place was somehow even colder than how it had been upstairs.

"What's been going on?!" An angry lisp called from the other end of the shop.

Howard turned his head to see Naboo and Bollo lumbering in from the back door, both dressed in heavy middle-eastern winter gear - a fashion that Howard was sure didn't even exist. Especially for gorillas.

"How am I supposed to know? I only just got in." Howard replied indignantly.

"Well someone's been into the cellar even after I forbid anyone to go in there until I said otherwise." said Naboo, removing a pair of over-sized ski goggles.

"Don't look at me. I haven't gone anywhere near that door. What the hell where you keeping behind it anyway?"

"Oh just a sack of candy canes and several stockings full of presents for everyone."

Howard raised an eyebrow; "….Really?"

"No, you idiot! Look around you. Look at the bloody weather outside - it's all because of what I was keeping in _there_." Naboo pointed to the open threshold of the cellar where the door had been smashed off its hinges and now lay in two pieces against the wall. Howard gulped.

"W-what was it then?"

"A powerful snow demon. The council have been trying to catch him for years and I was the one who was able to get a hold of him at last. Do you have any idea how much I've been gloating to Saboo lately about beating him at this and now they're gonna find out I let it go free? He's never gonna let me live it down - this is the worst disaster ever!" Naboo fumed like a fussy child.

"Uhm, what about potential death and destruction of Earth population?" Bollo interjected to his master.

"Yeah, yeah, that too."

Howard looked outside the back window to see the extent of what Naboo had been on about. The blizzards weren't showing any sign of calming down and the snow was building high enough to bury a large dog. He could barely even see through the sharp winds of heavy flakes and ice.

He shuddered back away from the closed door; "Jesus…" he swore under his breath.

"He's overbooked at this time of year unfortunately. And I can't see any of the council flying to help us in this weather." Naboo moaned; "Why can't you ballbags ever just listen to me for once when I tell you not to touch my stuff?"

"For the last time, I didn't even go in your damn cellar! It must have been…" He felt the last tinges of colour drain from his face as his heart plummeted. "Oh no. **Vince!"**

Howard tore down into the cellar, grabbing the rail to stop himself from slipping on the steps sheeted with pure ice, delving deeper beneath the ground and into the pitch black darkness. He was half-way down when he felt something large and furry hit him from behind and he was thrown forward, landing luckily on soft yet cold snow.

Bollo quickly pushed himself off the crushed maverick; "Sorry Harold."

Spitting out a mouthful of snow, Howard climbed to his feet, holding onto the wall as he struggled to see anything in the dark cellar.

"V…v…Vince? Vince, are you down here?!" He called around blindly.

Naboo swept down the stairs with ease behind them and clapped his hands. Suddenly a ball of gold light expanded and suspended itself on the ceiling of the cellar, illuminating the snow filled space around them.

"Some powerful light spell there, Naboo." Howard commented, squinting a little at the sudden brightness.

"What light spell? I got this from Ikea for twelve euros." the shaman responded, moving past Howard and Bollo to the corner of the room.

He reached down through the snow and pulled out a broken chain from beneath the surface.

"Fucksake, I knew it! The icy bugger's free." Naboo hissed to himself. "If Vince ain't dead, I'm gonna kill 'im!"

Howard, meanwhile, was more interested in the sight of something poking through the snow not too far from where he was stood. He crouched down and dug some of the snow out of the way, his heart racing as the sight of red and silver fabric became clearer to him. His hands burrowed faster like an eager mole tunnelling away.

"Vince? Vince?!" He panted, reaching out to grab the hat.

Vince's red Father Christmas hat with the silver lightning bolt stitched into it.

Howard cradled it in his hands, looking down upon it with eyes brimming with fear and regret.

Bollo shuffled closer to him, putting a paw out to touch it; "Where Precious Vince gone?"

"Where d'you think?" Naboo replied harshly; "The demon's missing and so is Vince - add it up for yourself."

"No!" Bollo suddenly cried. He grabbed the hat out of Howard's hands and gawped at it; "Evil snow man turn Vince into hat!"

Naboo groaned; "You stupid ape - he didn't turn him into the hat. He's kidnapped him!"

"But Vince no get kidnapped. Harold get kidnapped, that's how show works." Bollo complained in his sudden fright for his beloved Vince's fate.

Howard snatched back the hat and gripped it tight as Naboo confirmed what he'd been dreading.

He looked up desperately at the shaman; "Who, Naboo? Who or what has taken him?"

Naboo looked at him with steel in his usually careless eyes;

"He's the most cunning and cruel of all the Winter edition of monsters. A demon who's so evil it's said, that if he achieved full power, would enslave humanity and demand blood sacrifices - and that he's the _real _one who killed Bambi's mum in the snowy medow. They call him," Naboo stopped for an over-dramatic pause; "...the Judder Man."

* * *

**XD If you don't know the connection then I'd say type 'Julian Barratt' and 'Metz' into YouTube, trust me. Reviews would be lovely!**


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